


Technological Advances

by haku23



Series: Advances in Modern Technology [1]
Category: Marvel Ultimates
Genre: M/M, References to Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-09
Updated: 2012-10-15
Packaged: 2017-11-15 22:45:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/532604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haku23/pseuds/haku23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony makes Steve a Stark tablet to solve his ripping newspapers problem and Steve comes to terms with the fact that he actually might not hate the stupid thing. Tony comes to terms with maybe being in a sort of, kind of, maybe sort-of committed relationship with Steve Rogers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Reminder: Tony is an alcoholic in Ultimates so if brief mentions of drinking upsets you please approach with caution! Also there is a reference to suicidal thoughts so again, please keep that in mind. 
> 
> Set after Ultimates 2 but it gets into AU territory because well, I didn't like Ultimates 3.

“Here.”

 

Steve eyed the thing as if it were made out of garbage and for all that he made such a big deal about 'stupid technology these days' perhaps in his eyes it was. He took the smooth rectangle though, mouth turned down in a frown. Really, Tony had never gotten such a terrible reaction to a gift before, it was alarming, he would have to work on his timing or else get a more appreciative recipient.

 

“It's a new prototype. Try not to look so dismayed, darling, it won't bite.”

 

“What's this for?” oh and there was the distrustful look and it wasn't aimed solely at the tablet either, “what do you want from me?”

 

“Nothing. A man can't notice his teammate's difficulty with printed papers and attempt to...rectify this situation?” he quirked his lips into a smile that was met with the same, although softer now, expression as before. Affectionate exasperation was maybe the term. “Besides, I need someone to test it.”

 

“I prefer a normal paper.”

 

“That is the new norm. Of course no one has that one so that's the truth.”

 

“I mean an actual, physical paper, Stark, and you know it,” Steve was pointedly still holding the thing despite his apparent disdain for digital newspapers and Tony felt the beginnings of victory stirring in the back of his mind. Or maybe it was a headache.

 

He'd handed it to him with the New York Times already open and waiting to be read over after the original had had the gall to rip from Steve's albeit aggressive page turning. Really, it was just pathetic to watch him going at the thing with tape as if Tony couldn't afford to go buy another damn paper. So he'd made something that-hopefully-wouldn't crack under the stress of a super soldier grumpily reading something to do with something that made him angry. Tony tried not to get too involved with Steve's schedule in the morning for various reasons and that included taking note of what caused the kind of frown that ended in newspapers torn to shreds. Probably something about freedom, or Nazis, really, he didn't have the faintest idea what Steve liked to read.

 

“That is a physical paper, _Rogers_. Anyway, you two have fun, I've got meetings to go to.”

 

He'd left without explaining how it worked, he realized once he reached said meetings. Oh well, Steve would figure it out with that super brain of his that apparently could grasp difficult military tactics but not the correct way to hold/read a newspaper without it going the way of Tony's marriage license.

 

~~**~~

 

When he got to what constituted home now a days-the mansion, he'd never considered it home but then he'd never shared it with superheroes before-, pulling his tie off as he went, he found Steve glaring(he called it watching but Tony was never truly sure how much of that was actually going on) at the television. The man had to be some sort of masochist because he had the History Channel playing. The tablet was on and resting on the arm of the couch.

 

The living room was notably vacant of others though that could easily be explained away with how they all lived here on a semi-revolving basis. Clint and Thor were probably still here, maybe Wanda and Pietro if they felt like 'gracing' them with their presence but Jan didn't even pretend to live here full time and God knew where Banner had gotten to. Either way, it didn't much matter except that he felt free to lounge on the couch all he liked.

 

He strode to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a drink, noticing the way Steve tracked his movement with an odd sort of pleasure. Of course he'd never wanted attention from a man before this entire thing had started but he'd never had Captain America giving the attention so he tried not to think about it. Jarvis would have raised an eyebrow. Good lord, what a terrible thought. He took up the bottle again, poured another shot into his glass before toeing off his shoes and sauntering over to the couch. Steve's eyes were firmly glued to the television again as if he hadn't been staring only seconds before. True interest in the 'tell all' program on Nazis or denial, it didn't matter. Only Steve would be embarrassed to look at Tony Stark's ass.

 

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked, propping his feet up on Steve's thighs to try and entice him into a foot massage. He'd used to have people for that but none of them had compared. He didn't know how he'd even convinced him to do it the first time or why-it had just felt like the thing to do at the time, he was sure. A sip of his drink went down with only a hint of burn. That was probably something of a warning sign to others-for Tony it was a matter of perverse pride.

 

“What do you think?” his hands moved to the ball of Tony's right foot-success.

 

“I think you wouldn't know fun if it punched you in the face,” he smirked and Steve mercilessly dug his thumb into a particularly sore spot in response. His entire foot was a sore spot after a 12 hour day. The TV continued talking about Nazis in the same sort of tone every historian on a television show used. Dull.

 

“Maybe I'm having fun now.”

 

“Sadist,” Tony hissed without much malice. They were playing this game again and it usually had a good ending so he let it continue though he doubted he could escape if Steve really, really wanted to give him a foot massage. A terrifying thought, forced foot massages. It seemed like something Steve would do though considering how he sometimes took Tony's drink away and stood over him with his arms crossed until Tony ate his entire breakfast. As if, God, he was trying to take _responsibility_ for him despite how Tony would leave afterwards. He would really have to have a talk with him after this, set the record straight because Steve might not believe in friends with benefits but there wasn't really any other avenue open to Tony anymore. Marriage, what had he been thinking?

 

“Masochist.”

 

“You're the one watching a channel you hate while poking at a thing you similarly hate, if that's not masochism I don't know what is.”

 

Steve hummed, jabbed his finger into another sore spot that made him moan and he was smiling, probably. As if he were _happy_ , and this was something other than some strange foreplay dance they did. Really, they had to talk this over and make it clear that while Tony wasn't seeing anyone else _currently_ that they were most definitely not involved. Why in God's name would he be involved with a man anyway when there were women beating down his door for a chance to occupy his bed for the night? This was nothing more than a passing fancy.

 

“Wrong,” Steve said after Tony had been reduced to human shaped mush. Jello in a Tony Stark shaped mold.

 

He humoured him, slurred out, “what's wrong?”

 

“That historian.”

 

“Of course, Steve, they're all wrong.”

 

“Most of the time,” Steve said as he manoeuvred his way off of the couch. He took the tablet but left the TV on which meant he was coming back. Always complained about wasted electricity as if Tony couldn't afford to keep all the TV on when someone wasn't sitting in front of it.

 

“Get me another drink while you're up, darling, will you?” his arm was over his eyes, not sleeping of course because he didn't do that, just resting. Thinking of other things he could or had to make to keep the stock up where it should be. He didn't get an answer but the footfalls returned ten minutes later and Steve took his hand with the cup still in it and poured. Tony took a slow sip, forced into it really by Steve's hand on his.

 

Water. As if he needed that.

 

“You know that's not what I meant.”

 

“You drink too much and I've seen a lot of guys who drank a lot.”

 

He laughed, “I respectfully disagree.”

 

He didn't respectfully do much. Disagreeing with Steve was on the very short list. Steve didn't let go of his hand.

 

“Think about it.”

 

“Oh, alright,” he said but the thought had already gone.

 

~~**~~

 

He woke up in his bed and like most other nights he didn't exactly recall how he'd gotten to it. Steve was beside him, though, a lump on the bed illuminated by what was probably his tablet he hated. They'd probably had sex. That was what always happened except that he was still wearing his pants and nothing looked remotely debauched. He sighed, couldn't remember why he'd let Steve drag him to bed, why he'd let him _stay_ even though all he'd done was fall asleep after 48 hours of wakefulness.

 

The noise made the bed shift and the light go out, he heard a faint clunk as Steve placed the tablet on the bedside table before rolling over to face him. “Go back to sleep.”

 

“What time is it?” he asked because he couldn't afford to sleep. Mansions, superhero teams, flying pretty red heads to foreign countries he could foot the bill for but rest was too expensive now.

 

“What does it matter?”

 

“I have things to work on, a job, perhaps you've heard of it,” he grumbled as he sat up. Ignored how his brain felt like a ship being sloshed around on a restless ocean.

 

Steve's hand pressed on his chest, “sleep.”

 

“Thank you for the attempt, mother, but we can't all mooch off of others. Some of us are the ones paying for everything. You wouldn't believe how expensive you and Thor are to feed, honestly.”

 

He could see Steve's jaw setting in his mind's eye because that was just what it did when he was being called out-anyone would have been jealous of it. An outsider wouldn't have been far from the truth to think that that was his superpower, the most manly of all jaws. He let himself be pushed back only because it made him feel slightly better and dragged his fingertips along the outline of Steve's face. There was a hint of stubble there but not much.

 

“I'll buy my own food from now on.”

 

“Don't be ridiculous. Leave that to you and you'd be eating stove top ramen every night,” he closed his eyes and felt his way up to the short cropped blond hair, “besides, you already repay me.”

 

“That's what this is to you?”

 

Oh and there he went. All indignation and tense shoulders that refused to ease even when Tony's hand managed to find them in the darkness.

 

“What else could it be?”

 

Nothing serious, that was for sure. Steve would find some dame to occupy his time again and Tony would move on to another woman he might even love and they would both forget that time they'd both been so desperately lonely that they'd fucked a half a dozen times. It was simple. He had the entire thing mapped out in his head, the blueprint already drawn up and finalized.

 

Steve kissed him. He was insistent, always was as if Tony would just up and disappear afterwards so he had to make the most of the moment. His mouth was hot and for all that he acted like he had written the boy scout handbook he didn't waste much time before sliding his hand down Tony's pants.

 

“This isn't a relationship, Steve,” he managed to force out through the haze of 'Captain America has his hand on my dick'. It was, unsurprisingly, more than a little difficult.

 

“Isn't it?”

 

“If you're trying to convince me through handjobs, darling, I'm afraid you'll be unsuccessful.”

 

He didn't have to see the scowl to know it was now there, looming over him as Steve was so fond of doing, “why?”

 

“What do you mean, why? Because we're simply not compatible. I'm straight, for one thing and the moment you get your head out of the happy place a good blowjob-you're welcome for all of those by the way-puts you then I'm sure you'll realize that you're the same.”

 

“Why are we not compatible?”

 

Oh and here they went. It was always 'why'. “I don't like men, Steve, try to keep up.”

 

“But you're with me.”

 

“Well. That's just...” he pushed him away, or rather Steve let himself be pushed away and ran a hand through his hair, “Off. I have things to do.”

 

“Fine.”

 

It wasn't fine, of course. Steve would be back with some shiny new plan to convince Tony that he really did want to be something ridiculous like _boyfriends_ -what a hilarious concept. It would fail and Steve would move onto someone else and it would be fine then. Tony could pursue that lovely blonde woman he'd seen from the window because Pepper had been more than a little shocked when said woman hadn't ever shown up and he just couldn't do that to Pepper. Poor girl. Maybe he could start to go out again with someone other than Steve hanging off of him like some sort of bodyguard who somehow accomplished the insurmountable task of keeping women from flirting with Tony Stark as they all descended upon him like a pack of vultures, ready to scavenge any bits of himself he was willing to hand out in his grief over his dead fiancee.

 

He listened to Steve go. Relationship. Yeah, right.

 

~~**~~

 

“Mr. Stark?”

 

He waved her inside his office despite how he really didn't want to talk to anyone about what he was sure she would ask him about. He would have preferred to be at home working on things but since going off of SHIELD's payroll they needed him at the office more than ever.

 

“Package for you from Captain America.”

 

“Just put it down, I'm sure I already know what it is,” he spared the distinctly rectangular shaped package a short glance in between sips of his scotch, “go ahead and ask, Ms. Potts.”

 

“Did something happen between you two? He delivered it in person. Looked pretty angry.”

 

He laughed because only Steve would deliver a wrapped package in person. It could have been a bomb and no one would have told him to send it through the mail like he was supposed to though, being an American icon. After the first few death threats they'd taken to screening his mail for him. He was sure that there was a room somewhere filled to the ceiling with letters cut from newspapers telling him that he would die on such and such a day if he didn't do what they asked. Laughable really. Before the Ultimates he would have taken them up on the offer.

 

“Just being myself, I suppose.”

 

His fingers brushed the brown paper, pulled it towards him and peeled back the tape slowly. A screen looked back at him, “I think I've been dumped.”


	2. Chapter 2

Tony stumbled into the kitchen around 10am, coffee being the forethought in his mind as usual after he'd gotten his medication into him. Thor was eating what looked to be poptarts but he didn't even bother wondering where he'd gotten them-he probably wouldn't have liked the answer anyway. Steve sat at the table opposite to him with a cup of coffee and a blatantly paper copy of the newspaper. He didn't look up when Tony entered.

 

“Good morning,” Thor said around a bite of sugary confection that passed itself off as breakfast. Just the sight of the pink frosting against that odd yellow-y beige of the pastry sent Tony's appetite running even further for the hills. It had probably reached Australia by now.

 

“Good morning. Nothing too destructive planned for today I hope?”

 

A broken wall here or there he could foot the bill for but Thor and broken things were constantly in one another's orbit. And that he couldn't afford. Not with the stocks in the toilet after the whole alien invasion bit.

 

“I plan on visiting with friends in New Mexico.”

 

“Friends, of course.”

 

Hippies. But Tony couldn't judge-at least he had friends even if they didn't know the meaning of personal hygiene.

 

“And you? What does the great Tony Stark have on his docket?”

 

He could stand to be a little more sarcastic while living in Tony's house rent free, really. “Oh, you know, destroying rainforests and pillaging small villages.”

 

Thor's lips turned up in a smile, “then perhaps we will meet before I have returned here.”

 

“Of course. Have you all aboard my whaling boat as well while I'm out there. We could kick innocent puppies as a pastime.”

 

A booming laugh. Tony would have liked to bottle that sort of happiness. Drink it whenever everything else wouldn't work, sell it for millions to lonely business men whose only joy came from rolling in their money naked or something equally ridiculous. The coffee machine beeped at him. He grabbed the pot and poured some into his mug. It was perfectly silent, therefore, when Steve's newspaper tore in half. He couldn't even begin to stop himself from laughing.

 

Naturally Steve found it slightly less hilarious and probably regretted giving his tablet back so easily but Tony would be damned if he was handing it over without a fight. Steve hadn't _wanted_ it. But he'd enjoyed at least a full day of the thing-that was all it took. He'd seen the posts on the internet about the other models and those had only done about half of what the one he'd made for Steve did. Well, made for someone to test. He hadn't made it specifically for Steve, of course not, that would be stupid. He'd been in the middle of making it when he'd noticed his difficulty with papers and made a logical leap to 'I should give this to a super soldier to test'.

 

“Still prefer a normal paper, Rogers?”

 

Thor appeared to find the whole thing hilarious as well though Steve didn't glare at him with nearly enough force as he did Tony-it was like his special Tony glare and that was depressing. That thinking that had sparked a tiny, infinitesimal glimmer of hope in him because he didn't care if Steve didn't want him but he also didn't want him to stop having special looks for him either. Stupid. It was stupid. Steve would get back together with Jan or find some other willing woman and he would move on because it was what he did unless confronted with people with body modifications. That was the plan. And Tony didn't necessarily believe in those but he knew that would be Steve's plan-get out of the house, throw himself into something else, and forget about tablets and drunk billionaires.

 

“Oh come on, it was begging to be said and you know it.”

 

Steve left the room after shoving back from the table as if it had beaten him to subjecting everyone to Godwin's Law. He could be such a child when he wanted to be, honestly. Thor watched him go, looked at Tony, then back to the door. Tony shrugged lightly and went back to his coffee. It didn't have much appeal anymore though steam still rose invitingly from the cup. He placed it back on the counter with a quiet clunk.

 

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of America this morning,” he said to a raised eyebrow by Thor, then as he meandered in the general direction of the door himself, “enjoy your...whatever it is you folks do. Drugs, I suppose.”

 

Thor at least had the decency to laugh.

 

~~**~~

 

The weeks flew by, punctuated by one or two days where he wasn't struggling in vain against people who would much rather see him fail then succeed. Steve disappeared from the kitchen in the mornings, likely to go rip newspapers elsewhere, Thor hadn't come back yet though Tony attributed that to good company and even better bags of weed, and the others continued being themselves. Odd creatures that phased in and out of existence as they willed it, or rather, as they left or remained in the mansion. He hadn't seen Jan in almost a month, Clint had been doing spectacularly well at trying to break Tony's drinking records, and Wanda and Pietro may as well have been ghosts. Of course it wasn't until he got longer than a moment to breathe that he realized something was missing.

 

He narrowed his eyes at the desk he'd left the tablet on. The house keeping staff certainly could have taken it but they didn't have the codes for his workshop. No one but Happy and the others did. Which really left only one person.

 

It took a grand total of 30 seconds to hack into Steve's tablet and render it a brick. For now. He would fix it when he got an admission of something close to 'this is the greatest piece of stupid, future technology I've ever laid my hands on'. He'd even settle for a tie with TiVo.

 

Any minute, any minute he would get an angry knock on the door and Steve asking him-or demanding, as he did so often do-that Tony fix his technically stolen tablet. He waited, looked through some lines of code he needed to update, and was ultimately disappointed. But Steve was stubborn. He would take awhile to break and Tony was pretty sure that this was somehow violating the Geneva Convention however Steve _hated_ the tablet. Maybe, somehow, he just didn't care that his digital newspaper, and if the reports were right and they _were,_ restaurant finder, History Channel historian fact checker machine, camera, fitness tracker, and...some game about pissed off chickens apparently, was broken. Tony doubted that. No, this was a waiting game now.

 

Tony had never been very adept at waiting.

 

He activated the GPS on his own phone. Steve wasn't at home at the mansion. Interesting. It didn't take much to find him, he wasn't on the move from the slightly-okay, very-dumpy looking apartment in Brooklyn and Tony waved his driver on after he stepped onto the sidewalk. Surely Steve wouldn't throw him onto the streets after he so graciously played repairman for his 'broken' tablet. Secure in that knowledge he ascended the stairs, knocked on the door.

 

It opened on the second knock, Steve looked down at him with his arms crossed over his chest, “get inside.”

 

“Embarrassed to be seen with your teammate, Steve? Really, I am appalled.”

 

He did it anyway. The door closed behind him with a click and he inspected Steve's frighteningly inadequate apartment for a moment. An outsider would find it difficult to believe that Captain America lived here though that was probably the idea. Living at the mansion had perks of course but it also had a relentless gang of paparazzi milling about at all hours of the day and night. He declined the offer of water, took the one of beer though he knew that Steve couldn't get drunk so he hadn't any idea why he had alcohol in the house. It was no fun if you couldn't feel any effects of the stuff, after all. After a moment he opened his mouth to speak. Steve cut him off.

 

“I was wondering when you would show up,” he moved from the kitchen to the living room, sat on the sofa as if they were just having a casual chat. The tablet, dark screen and all rested on the coffee table.

 

Tony smirked,“Ah, I see, so you were expecting me then.”

 

“I was the only one who would have the motive and means to take the tablet. You would track me down and try to make a point.”

 

“Someone has been watching too much CSI,” he took a swig of his beer-horrible stuff-and looked up at Steve from under hooded eyes, “and what is the point I'm trying to make?”

 

“That I like your stupid tablet,” there went the jaw again. Too focused on the task at hand to be led astray from it by looks alone then.

 

“You do. You've been using it.”

 

“It was a means to an end.”

 

“And the end?”

 

“What do you think?”

 

He sighed, “good God, Steve. I don't commit, you know that.”

 

“You did with Natasha.”

 

Tony opened his mouth to point out that Natasha had been a _woman_ then shut it. Steve hadn't taken that as an excuse last time so he probably wouldn't this time either. A few moments ticked by as he took a deep drink from his bottle of cheap beer, “She was different.”

 

“Was she?”

 

“Yes, no, I don't know, what does it matter?” He'd been lonely and she'd been willing. Of course that had all been an act in the end, a ploy, a sham. His head hit the back of the couch as shifted on the couch with another sigh. “Laugh if you like, but I did love her.”

 

“I loved Jan. And I-”

 

“Listen to yourself, Rogers. Really.”

 

“Pepper said you haven't been seeing anyone else,” Steve said after a moment of uncomfortable silence. Tony desperately tried to get drunk off of one beer which he supposed had probably also been part of the plan, giving him only one when there were others. Steve's hand squeezed his thigh. He was like an overly large puppy dog. One that could snap his neck if he liked but good lord.

 

He hadn't been seeing anyone else because he'd been busy. Of course. Never mind that he'd always found time to fool around before. It wasn't that he was...waiting for Steve or something just as stupid, he just hadn't had the time. “An absence of evidence is not evidence of absence.”

 

“Of what?”

 

“Of me being completely not right for you, obviously. God, what would the tabloids say? They would have a field day, I hope you know that. My company would go under.”

 

It wouldn't. The company was unsurprisingly as resilient as Tony himself however that didn't mean he couldn't play dirty too. Steve stayed silent which wasn't anything new but he'd been hoping that he'd at least get to argue a bit more with him. It was what they did best, in a way.

 

“They would all look at you differently, you know. You wouldn't be a pinnacle of an American man anymore.”

 

Steve grunted.

 

“And I...Well you know how I am, I drink all the time and you hate that.”

 

“Afraid you might actually like it?”

 

He scoffed, “Afraid I would...That ice did something to your head.”

 

Steve would be good to him in his own way. Better than Natasha but he was _Steve_. He hadn't planned on this being long term but he should have known that Cap didn't do casual sex. There wasn't a casual bone in his body. “You would have to come to P.R. Events and I know how you hate those.”

 

Even though he'd had his own personal super soldier chaperone for weeks now. It was _Steve._ He couldn't _date_ Steve. It was just...ridiculous. It was ridiculous. “Unless you're after my money you'll be rather disappointed in everything, darling, I'm really sparing your feelings.”

 

“We don't have to tell anyone, just don't see anyone else.”

 

“Is that settling, I hear, Steve?”

 

“It's called haggling.”

 

He laughed until he realized he was serious and then he laughed some more. “I have other things to negotiate, Steve. Have your people call my people.”

 

It took more than he would have thought to walk out and not just because of Steve's hand on his thigh.

 

~~**~~

 

“Where's Cap?” Barton asked, breaking in on his very important task of drinking until he passed out in the living room. “Why are you watching the History Channel?”

 

Why _was_ he watching The History Channel? His mind supplied him with an answer that sounded almost right but he shrugged, “why would I know where he is? I'm not exactly his keeper.”

 

Clint stared at him. Tony held out his bottle, “drink?”

 

“No thanks.”

 

“Suit yourself.”

 

The other man didn't linger long after he realized the conversation was going nowhere fast and Tony couldn't blame him. It wasn't exactly a great time watching historians when there was no one to tell him how wrong they were. It was pathetic really how Steve had steadily integrated himself into his life and with how he was sulking in his apartment instead of living at the mansion he had left a Captain America shaped hole. Well, not hole. That was rather over dramatic. He didn't _miss_ him, for god sake, they were friends and besides, he was _busy_ , he didn't have time to miss him even if he did.

 

Tony pulled his phone from his pocket. He would just have to find someone else to entertain him until Cap got over his silly crush, that was all. It had already been a week, surely he couldn't last much longer pining away.

 

~~**~~

 

It wasn't often that Steve Rogers got phone calls at three a.m anymore. He knew who it would be because there wasn't anyone else he knew that would be up this late. It didn't take long for him to rise from bed, having woken immediately when the phone had started. He crossed his apartment in under a minute and after letting it ring once more he picked up.

 

“What is it?”

 

Tony's voice sounded rough, tired, and there were cars passing in the background every so often,“Oh, now you're angry at me.”

 

“Do you know what time it is, Tony?”

 

“Three in the morning,” came the reply a moment later. The cheat had probably checked his phone.

 

“What is it?” he asked again because there had to be a reason for the call.

 

“It's a deal.”

 

“I'll let Pepper know,” his hand closed around the tablet that had been left by the phone last night before he'd turned in.

 

“What?” his voice came out in a squawk then lowered, like Tony Stark could sound anything close to threatening, “what did you say to her?”

 

Steve pressed the send button of his email, “I had my people call your people. Official negotiation of terms.”

 

“Of course you did. I suppose you've already sent it,”Tony sighed and Steve could almost see him pinching the bridge of his nose. “And you fixed the tablet, I assume.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“By yourself? Steve, I'm impressed. It's almost like you like it.”

 

“It wasn't that hard,” he looked down at the glossy screen and flicked it over to his 'To Do list'. In a single swipe he deleted the last item on it. “I do,” he admitted and it wasn't a lie. The thing had its uses even if he had never thought that he would ever grow attached to it. But he still didn't like that stupid Twitter site.

 

“Mm. I'm outside the mansion. Care to have a sleepover?” he could hear the purr in Tony's voice, probably due to the fact that he thought he'd won some sort of battle by getting Steve to admit he liked the stupid thing.

 

He smiled into the phone, “brought everything over yesterday.”

 

“Oh, hurry up then before I change my mind and have this contract declared null and void.”

 

Somehow Steve didn't think that would be happening.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The theme for the ending of this chapter is 'Sweet Victory' LOL. Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be lighthearted but Ultimates. Maybe my attempts at writing this universe are hilarious to you in which case I am hurt and sad :((( Just kidding! This is my first attempt at writing for Ultimates so I'm sure it's not as great as it could be but thanks for reading anyway!


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